Dispatch From the Bunker, vol. 601

I wish I could tell you guys everything that goes on in my ridiculous little world. But I can’t. I work for a company that’s internet savvy, so that’s out: nothing about work. And I don’t always feel comfortable writing about my kids, and their lives.

Indeed, there was a time, years ago, when I didn’t even mention the boys at all. We were childless, by implication. Then Mark Maynard outed me, and I reluctantly began referring to our sons as the Secrets. So, keeping things close to the vest isn’t a completely new development.

But when I was at my previous job I felt semi-safe writing about work. It was probably a false sense of security, but I routinely ranted about characters there who annoyed me. Remember the Shuffler? The woman who never lifted her feet off the floor, and moved through the hallways like she was cross-country skiing?

I could NEVER do that now. I’d be summoned to the Chamber of Reprimands, and possibly frog-marched out the door.

And there are other frustrations that would bore you guys to tears if I addressed them here. I mean, seriously. So, I find myself in a situation where I’m dealing with a whole bunch o’ things that I can’t or don’t want to write about. It’s a problem.

Right now, for instance, I’m operating on four hours of sleep because I went to bed in a state of agitation, and was wide-awake far too soon, all whipped-up again. I can’t tell you a thing about it.

And yesterday morning I woke up to some emotional unrest at Chez Kay, and was needed for Dadly duties. Nothing scandalous, mind you, but private.

So, you see how it’s going? I feel like I’m looking through the wrong end of a telescope. Toney and I both work all the time, and there are fewer and fewer adventures to write about. We rarely even go out to eat at this point. And I don’t watch TV, so I can’t talk to you guys about the latest zombie adventure, either. I’m feeling severely limited.

I wish I could climb into a time machine, return to 2004 or thereabouts, and kick myself squarely in the nuts every time I moaned about being busy, or having a complicated life. Ha! That 2004 Jeff had it made. The whiny little bitch.

A few small things of note:

I’ve had a low-grade cold since, I don’t know… November? Nothing debilitating, but certainly annoying. Right now there’s crackling and whistling and whatnot going on in my lungs, whenever I take a deep breath. Also snot, no shortage of snot. I’ve just about had it with this marathon low-grade cold. Or maybe it’s SARS? Regardless: enough!

Yesterday I found out The Eels will be playing near Philly again, at the end of May. I’ve already asked for the day off at work, and spoken with Steve about it. We will be there, of course, with the Secrets by our side. Both boys have grown up on the Eels, and it’s automatic that they join us now. It’ll be fun.

Toney and I put a deposit down on a hotel/resort in Myrtle Beach, for later in the summer. It’s been a long time since we went on an actual family vacation, and I’m not fully convinced we’ll be able to pull this one off. But we I talked about it, and took the plunge. The wheels are now in motion for a beach trip to the South. We’ll see what happens from here.

I hate my voice. Are you satisfied with yours? Mine has a tonal quality that leads to people saying, “What’s that?” a lot. I work in a place that’s often noisy, and nobody can hear what I say there. I literally have to shout, or say everything twice. It’s bullshit. Some people have voices you could hear on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange, at fifty yards. Not me. Toney accuses me of mumbling, but I don’t think that’s accurate. I believe it’s a projection issue. Some people have a cannon for a voice, and I have a fog machine. Wotta rip-off.

And I need to go to work now. For a Question, I don’t know… Do you have any summer plans? Anything on the horizon that’s keeping you going? Please tell us about it. Also, if you could go back ten years, and talk to you, what would you tell him/her? Or… anything else you’d like to comment about.

Comments

I go through stuff like that about work. I try to stop myself and notice it is after 5 p.m. and I am on my time now – not work time. It also helps to write the stuff down. It can be deleted of course, or ripped up.

The only thing keeping me going at work right now is the promise of a week off next week….so I can move. I hate moving, but more than that, I hate curtains. For the past week or so, I’ve been hounded about curtains by the darling fiancee…and quite frankly, I couldn’t give two shits, so long as they are there. Also, I cannot wait to get married in October so I can swing another two weeks off of work.

Huh, one you bastards is probably smart enough to tell me, why if you put a <
in front of a word and the other one behind the word doesn't show up. In my first post there was a sigh in there and it disappeared. Same as the second.

I’m getting married in 11 days, so we will be spending our summer getting used to be married and having to share a bank account. “You bought what? another new gun? 15 pairs of shoes? What the….”
Oh, and trying to get knocked up. I’m old, so it may take some time…but at least it’ll be fun.
We always have one 8-10 day trip to the beach in August, although I’m guessing this year will be shorter after we burn a weeks vacation on a honeymoon.
I can’t talk about my job either, for reasons I can’t tell you, but man oh man the stories I’d tell if I could.

I cannot STAND my voice. We just recorded our last Improv gig (which went excellent, I might add). But listening to the playback, it’s very clear I have a strong Bronx accent. I don’t “hear” it when I speak, but listening to the recorded voice makes me cringe. I sound like I took part in “My Cousin Vinny” as Lisa’s (how shall I say this delicately?) “slower” sister.

No summer plans but I’m pushing for a week at an all inclusive resort in May. I worked my ass off and I deserve a vacation where all I have to do is raise a pinky and a tray of tropical drinks miraculously appear.

10 years ago? Wish we looked for our house in Rhode Island. That would have been 10 years off the mortgage!

I hate my voice. When ever I hear it on a voicemail or something im like ewwwww. I think I sound manly but everyone I know tells me I don’t. I probably really don’t sound manly but there is something about it that I can’t stand.

The only thing I am looking forward to this summer is hubby is getting a big raise in August. It will help out a lot. We really need it. Oh and in July we will be married 5 years, that’s kind of a milestone right? Haha.

TW and I will mark 35 years of marriage–often referred to as “28 of the happiest years of our lives”–this summer. We’ll probably get away for a week or two–I’m partial to wilderness, but enjoy some level of luxury, so we’ll see.

It will all be bittersweet as we wait for the drunk driver who killed our 29-year old son to be criminally charged. Our son had been engaged for 3 weeks, and we were looking forward to bringing his fiance (and grand kids!) into our family. Now our empty nest feels extra empty….

I took up smoking when I was 14 yrs old. I”m now 78 and I talk like my husband. When I answer the phone, invariably the person says,”Hi Joe.” It’s annoying.
When someone tells me to stop smoking, I tell them, “something’s gonna kill me and it might as well be something I enjoy. Hah! “.

Since I am in sales, I speak to many secretaries, receptionists, assistants, buyers, technical engineers, and purchasing managers multiple times per week.

Some of these people have been buying from me for years and we have never met face to face, then the opportunity arises that I will be in their area or a trade show and I meet these people. Sometimes they look like what I expect, and sometimes they don’t.

The strange thing is that most of them tell me they visualized me as 6 feet plus tall, cowboy hat, and a Harley.

I do have a really deep and loud radio announcer voice, but I am average height, clean cut, and trim. It freaks them out.

I’m always shocked at how country my voice sounds when I hear it played back. I don’t think I sound that bad in my head.
I may have lived in Alabama for 25 years, but I spent most of my childhood on the east coast in Naval towns, even a stint in New England. I don’t WANT to talk like I’m from Alabama…people automatically think you’re stupid when you have a southern accent.

My husband and I just celebrated our 46th wedding anniversary. Where the hell did all those years go? Raising kids and trying to pay the bills I guess. Now we’re retired and trying to live on our social security of $1800 a month. It’s not easy so my advice to all of you out there is SAVE for your retirement. Our golden years are now spent clipping coupons and eating sandwiches. So listen to the old fogies and save some money for when you get old. It’ll happen before you know it.